


Arrangement in the Key of Sea

by AlynnaStrong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Femslash, House Greyjoy, Light Angst, Rare Pairings, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 11:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: Brienne is apprehensive about her arranged marriage to the heir of the Iron Islands.  Yara Greyjoy pulls the same con on her as she did (in canon) on Theon.Written for ASoIaF Rarepairs Week - Prompt: Arranged Marriage





	Arrangement in the Key of Sea

Brienne stood on the foredeck of her father’s ship, the bright blue and rose sails proudly proclaiming its origin of the island of Tarth. At sixteen namedays, with three broken engagements already, she had been startled to learn Lord Tarth had quickly found her a fourth. Even more suspiciously, it was the best, to the heir to the Iron Islands. House Greyjoy was a strange branch of nobility, to be sure. It was overlooked by most mainland houses due to its unique culture, but unquestionably well represented in the histories of the realms.

Brienne only brought one small bag of possessions along with her. Most of her clothing would be unsuitable; too thin and, interestingly, too feminine. Ironborn all wore pants and dressed in leather and wool. Father had even prevented her from bringing her sword. At first, she thought that was at the request of her husband-to-be. Now, she wondered if Lord Tarth had feared she’d fall on it.

She allowed the brisk sea air to dry her eyes and cool the flush from her face. Letting anyone here know how distraught she was over the match could only get her started off on the wrong foot. No matter how she felt about what her father had arranged, she had to try her best. The crumbled letter slipped through her fingers and landed in the water. Her father’s last words to her, and they’d changed everything. The ship’s captain handed it to her this morning with an apology that he had been instructed she was only to receive it when the Iron Islands were in sight.

>   
>  My Dearest Brienne,  
>    
>  As you know, you are to marry the heir to the Iron Islands within two weeks of your arrival at Pyke. I have led you to believe that your espoused is Theon Greyjoy, but this is not the case. Theon, as a hostage of House Stark, is not presently free to marry, and Lord Greyjoy has disinherited him in any event. In his wisdom, Lord Greyjoy has declared that his daughter Yara will be his heir. A stable marriage would solidify her claim to the title, even if the union is an unusual one. He and I came to an arrangement. I believe if you give it a chance, you’ll see that the two of you have quite a bit in common. I trust that you’ll do your duty and uphold our family’s honor in this. Know that you will always have my love.  
>    
>  Lord Selwyn Tarth,  
>  Evenstar  
> 

Brienne rode the tender boat to shore in silence. She could see the strange, broken castle of Pyke atop the cliffs overlooking the town, its disjointed towers connected by rope bridges. A long, twisting road led to her new home. She supposed the walk would give her time to compose herself.

A whistle cut through her reverie. “Are you Brienne of Tarth?” asked a dark-haired woman leading a fine chestnut horse. She had the wind-burnt cheeks of an Ironborn and soft brown eyes that danced with amusement. Brienne wondered if she was aware of her situation.

“Yes, that’s right,” Brienne said.

“I’m Esgred. I work up at the castle. They sent me to help you find your way. Care for a ride?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Brienne replied. So far the Ironborn didn’t seem to be as harsh and inconsiderate as she’d been led to believe. That was something, at least.

They begin their journey to castle Pyke, past grey houses and rocky cliff sides. Esgred rode in front, controlling the horse somewhat inexpertly. Brienne’s hands circled her midsection with careful propriety.

After a few minutes, Brienne could no longer contain her curiosity. She asked, “Did they tell you why I’m here?”

“I’ve heard there’s to be a wedding, yeah. How do you feel about that?”

Brienne paused for a moment, not knowing what to say but unwilling to be dishonest. Finally, she replied, “Humiliated, I suppose. My father could find no husband for me in the entire Seven Kingdoms and had to resort to this. I don’t understand why he did it.”

“Eh, Tarth’s an island, right? Lord Greyjoy probably threatened to attack if he didn’t send somebody. That’d be just his style,” Esgred remarked darkly.

“I’m surprised Lord Greyjoy agreed at all. Do Ironborn often marry women to women?”

“Not often,” Esgred replied, “but every once in a while. The Drowned God understands that the heart wants what it wants.”

“Do you know Lady Yara?” Brienne asked. She hadn’t been able to find out much information about Theon Greyjoy, other than he was close to her in age and had a sister a few years older.

“Yeah, a bit. I work at the castle, so I run into her from time to time.”

“What is she like? Cruel or… maybe kind?”

“Well, she’s got a bit of an odd sense of humor, and I wouldn’t call her pretty, but she don’t have much meanness in her. I think she’ll treat you good.” Esgred patted the hands linked around her stomach.

“That’s comforting. Maybe she won’t be upset about how I look. I don’t know what Father told her. He tends to be optimistic.”

“What, that you’re so fair? Oh, that’s all right. We’ve got all sorts on the Islands. Back in the day, reavers took thralls from everywhere. We’ve got blondes, redheads, dark skin, amber eyes. Don’t matter; they’re all Ironborn now.”

“No… that I’m overlarge and ugly and-”

“Don’t say that!” Esgred reached back to squeeze her shoulder. “You’re strong. Strength is very important around here. You must know how to use an axe.”

“I mostly trained at sword.”

“Sword, of course. Whatever. That’s way more important than a nose that’s never been broke. You’ve even still got all your fingers. Yeah, she’ll be over the moon. Anyway, like I said, she’s no prize herself. Maybe she’s even a little worried about what some fancy greenlander will think of her.”

Brienne chuckled. “I doubt she’s as nervous as me.”

“Aw, what's bothering you?”

“Well, um, my septa never prepared me for, you know, what needs to happen. On our wedding night.” Brienne now understood why, for once, Septa Roelle had almost shown her pity. Disgust as well, but she’d certainly seemed torn. ‘I don’t know what your father’s thinking. Perhaps your new god will have some advice; the Seven don’t,’ was all she’d said.

“You’re worried about the physical part?”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Brienne asked, then blushed. For all she knew, all the women on the Islands got up to mischief with each other.

“Shit, that’s the easy part,” Esgred said, partially confirming her theory. “The fun part. I’d be more worried about all the politics. It’ll not just be reaving and raiding anymore. The two of you will be expected to keep up with the family alliances and write correspondence.” She faintly shuddered.

“I don’t mind that,” Brienne said. She often helped her father with his letters since his eyesight began to fail. Perhaps she could prove useful to her wife’s family. But she would still have to… “Do you think… for practice, I mean… C-Could you show me how to kiss a woman?” Brienne asked shyly.

Esgred ducked her head to hide her grin. For all the young bride-to-be’s strength and propriety, this was going to be too easy.

“Sure. Hop down with me, though. It’ll be easier face to face.”

It almost wasn’t, considering the height difference. Brienne gamely bent down, though and allowed Esgred to position her hands.

“Now, look into her eyes, yeah? And stroke her cheek like so. Good. Very good.” Esgred’s eyes drifted closed. She guided her lips onto Brienne’s. The kiss was brief, but there was a passionate connection Brienne hadn’t experienced from any dutiful family kisses.

“Did you feel that?” Esgred asked.

“Of course,” Brienne said, lightly touching her lips.

“I meant, between your legs.”

Brienne looked scandalized and then curious. “How did you know?”

Esgred laughed. “I think maybe your da realized something about you before you did. How many broken engagements did you say you had?”

“Three,” Brienne mumbled. “I was only responsible for wrecking two of them, though. Only one on purpose.” She turned a furrowed brow to her companion as if she hoped that proved something. From the way Esgred regarded her, she now wondered if she’d proven it the other way.

“Is your belly still flipping a little?”

“… Yes,” Brienne admitted reluctantly.

“Let’s get back to it, then.”

Esgred’s every touch seemed to bring more sensations to life within Brienne. The Ironborn found tender spots behind her ears and at the nape of her neck that drew low moans from Brienne’s throat. Before long she felt downright lightheaded. It seemed they were kissing more than they were breathing. Her secret area tingled to a distracting degree. Esgred's palm brushed over her breasts, and the last of her moderation slipped. She followed along with everything Esgred wanted to do then, from unpinning her hair to lying together in the grass behind a low wall. Only when Esgred started to unlace her pants did she snap back to herself.

“No! I can’t.” Brienne sat up quickly and rearranged her clothes.

“What? Why not?” Esgred asked, obviously perturbed.

“I’m to be wed, remember. I have to be a maiden for Lady Greyjoy.”

“Oh for… listen, I promise you, Lady Greyjoy is no virgin. Not in _any_ way. So, like, fair’s fair. What’s good for the goose is good for the other goose.”

“I’m sorry. You’re lovely and… funny. I like you. But it’s not how I was brought up. I’m still a greenlander, until the wedding anyway.”

“Hey, you said you didn’t even want to get married. Here’s your way out.”

“No, see, that would dishonor my father. He told the Greyjoys I was maiden, so I can’t make a liar of him.”

“Ugh, fathers,” Esgred rolled her eyes. “They can really do a number on you. Lady Greyjoy, for instance, didn’t much fancy getting married either. She told her father – kinda joking, mind – that she’d rather have a wife than a husband. How in the name of God was she to know that he’d take her serious for once in his life? Now you’re here, a giant maiden barely of age, and I don’t know what she’s going to do with you.”

Brienne’s eyes grew wide. She was no candidate for a maester’s chain by any stretch of the imagination, but she could put some clues together. The nice horse, the wind-burnt skin that said she worked on a ship not in a castle, how she seemed to know quite a bit of their backstory… “Lady Greyjoy?” she asked.

Yara grinned guiltily, rather relieved to have been found out. “You can call me Yara, if we’re to be wed and all.”

Brienne’s cheeks colored in shame. “I’m sorry I said being engaged to you was humiliating. I didn’t mean it personally.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was a shock, finding out you were betrothed to a woman.”

“I would have been upset with anyone. I thought I had an understanding with my father.”

“Yeah? You had other plans?”

“Not exactly. He promised that I’d not have to accept discipline from someone I could beat in a fight, though. I assumed that meant marriage arrangements were on hold.”

“Well, good thing we’re not big on discipline around here.” She squeezed the muscles in Brienne’s upper arm. “I don’t like my chances. You must have trained so hard to get all that meat on your bones. You’d thrash me bloody, and that’s before I even got caught up in your gorgeous eyes.”

Brienne flushed with pride. She’d never had anyone appreciate her body before, not like that. She looked over to find her espoused watching her closely.

“You… like how I look?” she asked, amazed.

“ _I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”_

Brienne found herself speechless for a moment, the flush spreading across her face and down her neck.

“Are you thinking you’d like to kiss me again?” Yara asked.

“I’m warming to the idea.”

“Yeah, I could feel you were getting pretty warm before.” Yara’s hand snaked up her thigh. “Want to get back to seeing what all the fuss is about?”

“Wait a moment – how do I know you’re really Yara Greyjoy? Maybe you’re trying to steal her lady. Isn’t that the sort of stories they tell about Ironborn?”

“That does sound exactly like us, I have to admit. But look,” Yara pulled out a seal from a pouch at her waist, “the Greyjoy crest. So either I’m her, or I stole it from her, which really, you’d have to give me credit for thinking ahead.”

“I’m supposed to wait for our bedding,” Brienne said, but without much force behind it.

“If you’re going to be Ironborn, you need to get used to breaking a few rules.” Yara advanced, eyes gleaming. Brienne reclined back onto the grass again.

This time, Yara’s touches caused Brienne to shiver and feel hot all over at the same time. Yara seemed in no hurry, exploring with her mouth from Brienne’s lips, down her neck, to the smooth, sensitive skin between her breasts, and then the breasts themselves. (Brienne couldn’t quite pinpoint when in the process she’d lost her shirt. She decided it wasn’t important). 

Yara managed to tug down Brienne’s pants and smallclothes, but felt some resistance as she tried to spread her legs. Yara looked down into the big, innocent eyes of her bride-to-be.

“Do I have to?” Brienne asked.

That was a spray of ice-cold sea water right to Yara’s face. “Nah, you don’t have to, no,” she replied. There’s no graceful way to re-dress a girl you just undressed, but Yara did try to get off of her. She was prevented by very strong arms that pulled her back down.

“Okay.” Brienne captured her lips again.

“Uh, hang on. I’m sensing a bit of a-”

“I’m a lot more willing if I don’t have to,” Brienne whispered in her ear.

“That is a very Ironborn attitude. I think you’re going to fit in here just fine.”

“Just… tell me when it’s going to hurt.”

Yara snorted. “It’s not going to hurt. It’s going to feel better than anything you’ve ever felt before in your life.”

“Really?”

Really.

The wedding was a surprisingly festive and merry affair. Brienne’s largest concern turned out to be staying sober long enough to recite her vows. After a brief period of confusion about who should lead during the dance, she realized she'd never felt as happy as when gazing down at her wife's crooked smile. Brienne would not go to her wedding bed a maiden, but she would go happily, even eagerly. All in all, an outcome her father could endorse.

 


End file.
